Unsuspected
by WizardsGirl
Summary: (Poll Fic) SI OC girl reborn into Dark Pureblood Family, in the Twins Year. Sorted into Hufflepuff & decides to make Harry a Dark Lord through the Power of Friendship! (Actually a Marietta Continuation, definitely going to continue) T for CURSING (My SI OC is such a potty mouth jfc)
1. Prologue

**A/N:** Current Winner of my Poll!

Vote:

Harry Potter SI OC: Girl reborn into OC Dark Pureblood Family, is in Fred & George's year, a Hufflepuff, & decides to make Harry a Dark Lord through the Power of Friendship

Thanks for Voting!

(BTW, this is actually an Idea I had for my SI OC Mariette in _**A Sister's Prerogative**_ , so, you know, awesome ^-^)

 **Warnings:** AU, Rebirth, SI OC, Hufflepuff!OC, Is-it-overpowered-if-its-actually-logic-and-not-magic?, OOC, Lots and lots of cursing, multi-chaptered-fic-with-sporadic-updates, Eventual-Dark Lord!Harry, Character Bashing (Many and few), Debatable Morals, Experimentation, Emotional Manipulation  & Outright Manipulation of a Minor (Both Knowing and Not)

 **Unsuspected**

 _Prologue_

I had died.

 _Again_.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Sighing tiredly (only, not really, because _hello_ , I don't have a fucking _body_ ), I sort of floated over the bloodstained bit of concrete that was the latest sight of my most recent death.

…

Seriously, why the fuck couldn't I just die of, like, old age or something? Surrounded by loved ones who were trying to smile instead of full-on panic?

Ugh, whatever. I just wished that my frequent reincarnation would just fucking start already.

I am _so_ done with being dead.

Everything began to get misty, and then, my vision was obscured with white light, before being consumed by darkness.

About fucking time.

 **~(Line Break)~**

Like it usually is, the first few months of my new life are blurry and muddled, with vague recollections of being cared for and handled. Usually, there's some loving coos or mutters, but, this time, there wasn't, which honestly didn't bode well for me. My clearest memory is of a little green creature with tennis-ball sized blue eyes murmuring to me as it fed me a bottle of milk that had appeared out of no where, and calling me 'Little Mistress'.

…

If that was a fucking House Elf, I will _lose my shit_ , I kid you not. There will be screaming and squealing and fist pumping like an idiot, all mental, I assure you, since I can't even _lift my own fucking head_ at the moment, but it _will_ happen, and it will be _glorious_.

Until I can find out, however, it looks like I'm stuck in the in-between time for a while longer.

Joy.

 **~(Line Break)~**

It was a House Elf.

I may have scared poor Lonny half to death with the apparent 'fit' I gave in response, but it was so. Fucking. _Worth it_.

 _Mother fucking House Elf_.

Know what that means?

 _I'm in mother fucking_ _ **Harry Potter**_

Fuck yeah, I'm _so_ gonna fuck things up. I am going to go to Hufflepuff (because that House gets so much shit despite being kickass), and I am going to turn Harry Potter into a Dark Lord because I fucking can, and I will manipulate the _fuck_ out of _everyone_ and I will fucking _prove_ that Hufflepuff is kick ass, and no one will even fucking suspect me because, guess what?!

 _No One Ever Suspects A Hufflepuff_.

 _Mwahahahahaha…_

In other news, I found out my newest name.

It's Annis.

Annis Sanguine Blagden, of the Ancient House of Blagden. Pureblooded Heiress to the Dark Family which, according to Lonny, had managed to remain rather Neutral during the war thus far, despite supporting the Dark, but…

Guys.

My fucking parents _literally_ fucking named me _Pure Blood of the Dark Valley_. What the fucking hell.

And, to make things worse, they fucking left me to be raised by a damn House Elf because they apparently don't have time for a child.

 _Why the fuck did you have one then, you motherfucking_ _ **idiots**_ _?!_

Ugh, rude fuckers.

At least Lonny doesn't mind taking care of me. I think, when I get bigger, I'll keep her. She's pretty easy6 to get along with, and very chill, compared to my slightly-blurry distant memories of Dobby and the Hogwarts Elves. She's very Go With The Flow-WAIT NO LITTLE MISTRESS DON'TS BE EATINGS THAT.

Mwahahahahaha…

Now, if only I can convince her that she should hold open a book for me so I can get to preparing myself for the Wizarding World…

Goals.

 **~(Line Break)~**

"Little Mistress is be doing so good!" Lonny squeaked, utterly thrilled as I slowly shuffled from the low table towards the beaming House Elf, and I couldn't help but grin when I managed to make it, wobbling as I sat down directly in front of my green-skinned caretaker. I was up to her chin, now, and growing more every day since I turned two (My birthday is January 13th, 1978. It was a Friday. Seriously. No, I'm being completely serious. I was born on Friday the Thirteenth to a Dark Family. Fucking brilliant.).

Soon, I'd be able to fucking _reach_ the books on the shelf, instead of just watching Lonny move them about while she dusted.

Life is, as a whole, pretty damn okay…

Except the frilly dresses.

Those can burn in Hell or whatever for all eternity.

They _itch_.

Ugh, why couldn't I be reborn as a guy? Then all I'd have to worry about was inappropriate boners and leaving the seat up, ugh.

The struggle is real, I tell you.

Just as I wrapped my pudgy arms around my lovely caretakers pale green body, there was a startling _Pop_ in the corner of the room, and another House Elf appeared. This one was male, and dressed in a tawny-colored pillow case with the coat of arms for the Nott Family (Lonny and I had spent two weeks going over the various Houses, their Coats, their Heads, and the Blagden House Allies and Feuds. Surprisingly, my Family had a Blood Feud with the Greengrasses because in 1719 a member of their House cheated on a member of my Family despite having a magically binding Marriage Contract in place. The girl in question had lost her magic, and the Greengrasses blamed us, but we were insulted that their daughter would dishonor our Contract, and thus a Blood Feud was installed. Ugh, headaches…).

He had dark golden brown eyes, and his nose was surprisingly short and round. This was Cobber, the Nott Family Shoe-Elf (His job was to make sure all shoes, boots, slippers, and heels were in their proper places, cleaned, and smelling fresh as a daisy apparently). He had been courting Lonny for the last six months, and I approved of him.

Now, however, he was twisting his large ears anxiously, eyes huge and wet with uncertainly relieved tears.

"What is beings wrong, Cobber?" Lonny asked, curling her bony arms around me protectively as we stared at him.

"The Darkses Lord," Cobber whispered franticly, bouncing on his toes anxiously, staring with huge eyes as tears began to trail down his face. "He is… He is being _beaten_!" Lonny gasped, her mouth falling open and bright blue eyes huge as she stared at her courter. "He is beings _gone_! Oh, Lonnys!" He wailed, bursting into relieved tears and darting over to throw his arms around my House Elf and myself, hugging us close as Lonny began to weep in relief as well and, bizarrely, I felt like I was between my mother and father, and I closed my eyes and hugged Cobber tightly.

So, Voldemort is gone, for now, and Harry is being placed on the Dursley's doorstep, while Sirius is hunting down Wormtail. And, soon, Neville's parents are going to be tortured into insanity and the world will remember that, just because the Dark Lord is vanquished, _doesn't_ mean everything is perfect.

So, eight years and counting before my grand plan can start.

I can't _wait_ for Hogwarts!

 **~(Line Break)~**

Okay, so, you remember how my parents never even came to see me? Well, I'm five-years-old now, and I've finally met my Dad!

…

He's a fucking asshat.

His name is literally _Dorian Gray Blagden_. He has a fucking _portrait_ of himself _in the fucking hallway_ that he doesn't like. It snarks at him from behind the dark gray curtains he put up in front of it, and it is funny as shit, I'm telling you. Seriously, you have not lived until you've heard a portrait/curtain telling someone that they are a "son of a grotty munter" and that his face looked like "a scrubber took a seat on it, and left a stain behind".

I like the portrait better than the actual man.

Dorian Blagden was six feet tall, and had given me his red-brown hair, his sharp cheekbones, and even his slightly-too-big ears. Aside from that, however, I must take after my mother, because he had a sharp nose, a square jaw, and narrowed brown eyes under glowering brows, while I had a button nose, soft jaw, and large greenish-gray eyes under thin, high brows. Our looks were apparently the only thing we shared, however, because I could already tell that I would never get along with this man.

"Stand up straight," my 'Father' snapped, glaring at me as he led me down a staircase. I refrained from grimacing, and, instead, pulled on every etiquette lesson I'd learned throughout my lives and what Lonny had taught me in these past five years. Hopefully, it would be enough, because Daddy Dearest had decided that the best way to welcome me to the family, officially, was to toss me to the wolves.

There was a Birthday Ball going on at the _Malfoy's_ , for fucks sake, to celebrate their Heirs third birthday (the idea of chibi!Draco was too fucking cute, honestly, even if his whiney older self _did_ irritate my soul. Still cute, but _irritating_.) and I had been invited along with my Father and Mother. So, Lonny had dressed me up in a neat dress that was made up of the dark purple and burnt orange that was the Blagden Family Colors (Awesome and horrible at the same time), had done my shoulder-length curls up into an elegant pair of little French-braided pigtails, and had made sure I remembered the proper way to greet and deal with others.

"Come on, then," 'Father" ordered, impatiently setting a large hand on my shoulder and pushed me through a set of doors at the bottom of the staircase. I barely got a glance around the room (A surprisingly chic parlor, with dark purple walls and bronze statues of a Wolf, the Blagden Family Symbol because it the First Blagden Head was a Wolf Animagus who married a Pureblood Werewolf who had passed down the amazing Immune System and natural Occlumency Walls _every_ Blagden had.), before, suddenly, my eyes landed on the woman standing before the fireplace, her cold green-grey eyes locked on me in sharp disapproval.

This must be my mother, Lady Mardella Patrice Blagden, Formerly of the Noble House of Kenley.

She was pretty, in a way. I'd gotten my slight curls from her, and her nose, eyes, eyebrows, and forehead, but my mouth way larger and fuller, and she had brown hair that was just that _boring_ brown. He hands were creepy, too. They were _tiny_! Like, _ten-year-old_ tiny! Did she mess up a potion and end up with permanently tiny hands or something?! She looked like she wouldn't be able to hold a large _apple_ correctly!

Ew!

…

Anyways, getting off topic.

She was about five-foot-eight, her slightly-curly hair brushing her bare shoulders. The dress she wore was a dark plum purple, which lightened slowly until you reached the bottom, where it ended as dark lavender. Her nails were painted the burnt orange, and a thin golden necklace encircled her neck, were a single wolf fang hung delicately.

"Ready to leave?" She asked, her voice a cold, smooth alto, and I stood stiffly in front of her as Dorian quickly moved to gather some neon-green Floo Powder from the brass container on the mantle, picking up a relatively small present that was beside it, wrapped in blue and silver striped wrapping paper with a navy-blue bow on top.

"Let's be on our way, then," Dorian declared, stepping into the fire place and throwing down his pinch of green powder with a snap of _"Malfoy Manor!"_ In a roaring flash of neon green flames, he disappeared.

…

I hope he gets spit out in Antarctica.

Douche.

"Come along, Annis," Mardella ordered coolly; I obediently stepped forward and bit back a shudder as her gross, tiny hands landed on my shoulder and held tightly as she guided me into the fire place. "Keep your elbows tucked in, Annis," she sniped; I shifted closer to her and folded my hands demurely in front of me, and let my eyes fall half-shut as my 'Mother' threw down her pinch of powder (Ha! That sounds like some Wizarding thing).

"Malfoy Manor," She called calmly; suddenly, in a bright, blinding flash of bright green fire, we were spinning away.

…

Jesus Christ, no _wonder_ Harry always went flying whenever he took the Floo! Ugh, it's so _disorienting_! All the rapid spinning and flashes of visions from other fire places into other rooms. It made me think of the book _Ravirn_ series, by Kelly McCullough. In one of the books (I can't quite remember if it was the first or second), they describe what it's like to travel through a Fairy Ring, and that's pretty much _exactly_ what this felt like, only with more spinning and disorientation.

Abruptly, the world jerked to a stop, and I automatically stepped forward when Mardella did, her child-hand still tight on my shoulder. As a result, I did _not_ go stumbling out, though I seriously wanted to puke. Ugh, I _hated_ the Floo.

"Mardella, so good to see you," a woman's voice greeted us in a soothing murmur, and I looked up to see none other than Narcissa Malfoy in all her white-blond beauty. She was dressed to impress with cyan blue robes of the _highest_ quality I'd yet to see, with silver-chained jewelry.

"Narcissa, it has been _too_ long," Mardella greeted back with such a patently _fake_ smile that I barely kept my eye from twitching. The two women hugged, kissing one another on the cheek with all the frigid coldness of frost on an ice cube, and I couldn't help but admire it because, lets face it, these two probably _hated_ each other yet they could smile with such cold politeness.

I bet the subtle insult flinging is _glorious_.

"Allow me to introduce my daughter, Annis," Mardella said, and gave me a 'come hither' hand movement.

…

Ugh, her hands creep me out, they are _so_ disproportional its _ew_.

"Annis, this is Lady Narcissa Malfoy," my 'Mother' told me clearly as she rested one of her creepy little hands on my shoulder. I smiled sweetly up at the pretty Lady and dipped into a curtsey, just like Lonny had taught me.

"It's nice to meet you, Lady Malfoy," I told her, carefully pitching my voice to be sweet and warm but not overly familiar (Lonny was, honestly, the best Mother I could have asked for in this Universe, swear to God… Merlin… _Everyone_.). The smile she gave me was significantly warmer than the one she shared with Mardella.

"It's very nice to meet you, Annis," she replied softly, nodding, and I smiled easily up at her, ignoring the ( _tiny_ ) hand on my shoulder as it tensed and tightened oh-so-slightly. "Draco, my son, and the other children are this way, as are the other parents and guests," she added, glancing at Mardella. "Your husband is there as well." Mardella inclined her head with a poisonous smile, and we followed the Lady Malfoy through the doors and promptly separated when she pointed me towards on side of the room, where a large group of children were, and Mardella in another, when I could already see Dorian drowning himself in politics and brandy.

Douche.

Walking as straight and graceful as I could (I'm fucking five, okay? My legs are tiny and chubby and I felt ridiculous, but like _hell_ was I going to give my _loving_ parents a reason to punish Lonny.), I joined the group of 7 children hanging out near the far wall. Draco Malfoy was there in all his adorable, wide-eyed, chibi adorableness, with fluffy white-blond hair and huge silvery-gray eyes that stared at me curiously as he tugged at his blue-and-silver robes.

"Hello," I greeted him, ignoring the others momentarily, as was expected. "Thank you very much for inviting me to your Ball, I hope you are having a very good birthday thus far." Little Draco's cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as he pouted at me.

"Donno _you_ ," he told me sulkily, and I bit back a coo, smiling and offering my hand.

"Annis Blagden," I told him; he took my hand and awkwardly kissed the air over it, mouth _much_ too far from it to be considered polite but, well, he's _three_.

"Cha'med," he told me simply. "I'm Dwaco Malfoy."

…

Awwwwww, he can't say his 'R's yet! So _cute_ ~!

Draco gesture to the children around us, and started politely introducing everyone. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were adorable pudgy balls of cute, eating licorice wands and blinking dolefully across the room at the snack table. Blaise Zabini was already a heartbreaker, and flashed me a bright grin, showing off his missing front tooth (How did a three-year-old lose a tooth already?!). Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson sniffed at me, already the best of friends, apparently. The last one introduced was Marcus Flint, eight-years-old and already large, his teeth looking slightly too-big for his mouth and his shifty gray eyes bright and mischievous as he kissed the air over my hand.

"Looking forward to Hogwarts?" He asked me as Draco got distracted by a House Elf who brought them all cups of pumpkin juice that was spelled not to spill.

"Definitely," I replied, grinning up at Flint. "You'll have to write me and tell me how it is!" He laughed and grinned down at me.

"Maybe, maybe not," he told me impishly ( _how_ did the big brute from the original Harry Potter realm get such a bad lighting?! Thus far, he's made me think more of a mix between Ron and the Twins than what I remember him being like in the books… Maybe he just became so jaded later on he turned stupid or something? I don't even know.) "Depends." I smirk up at him and sip my juice (It tasted kinda gross, honestly, but well, I'm a _guest_ so whatever)

"On what?" I asked; he lifted one shoulder, making a so-so motion with his hand.

"What's in it for me?" He asked easily; I hummed and took another sip of my drink.

"Well…" I drawled out quietly, leaning against the wall as music began to play and the adults started to meander about, some tipsy, most sober enough that, when they started dancing, they _at least_ didn't hurt themselves or embarrass themselves. " _That_ would depend on what you want, Mr. Flint." He snickered, and grinned, his large, crooked teeth surprisingly white as he looked at me.

"I wanna lotta things, Miss Blagden," he told me cheerfully. "I want a kitten, and an owl, and all the Chocolate Frog Cards. But, tell you what. I'll send you letters and a copy of my notes and homework and such from Hogwarts, if you'll send me notes on things I can't get at Hogwarts. I want notes on things I can't have there, with Dumbledork there. You get me that, I'll send you stuff I said I would. Deal?" He asked, offering his hand, and I considered the pros and cons.

If either of us was caught, especially with the _really_ Dark things, we'd _both_ get our asses tanned and maybe worse, depending on who caught us. However, the idea of getting a head start on Hogwarts and my hands on the actual _assignments_ , now, _that_ was most probably worth a _lot_ of things.

"Won't be able to send you the _really_ interesting stuff," I told him seriously. "Got a House Elf that goes through my letters, in case someone tries to get to my Mum and Dad through me, but the Darker Gray, I can work with. Still a deal?" I asked, gripping his hand; he considered it for a moment, before nodding sharply and grinning at me.

"Dance to seal it?" He asked; I wrinkled my nose. Ugh, _dancing_. His grin turned smug. "Afraid of dancing, short stuff?" He challenged; I narrowed my eyes.

"Afraid I'll show you up, bean stalk?" I challenged back, and he laughed and pulled me out onto the dance floor, where we proceeded to carefully ballroom dance, no doubt looking slightly ridiculous, my dark purple and burnt orange dress standing out with the Flint Family's standard gold and black. The fact that, after two songs, we tried to step on each others feet on _purpose_ , left us being watched with both disapproval and amusement as we laughed (well, giggled, in my case).

A few hours later, after cake and presents and farewells, after my 'parents' showed up to take me home, I couldn't help but find myself pleased. I had not only gotten myself an "in" at Hogwarts in a couple years, but I'd managed to get all the boys to like me (Or, in Vince and Greg's case, _remember who I was_ ). Pansy was clinging to Daphne and, well, _Blood Feud_ , so I didn't bother trying with them. As Mardella led me to my room, I couldn't help but yawn as I went over everything that had happened.

All in all, a good first attempt at networking, if I do say so myself!

"Don't stay up late," Mardella told me coolly as she opened my door for me, and I nodded.

"Goodnight, Mother," I told her simply, she just stared coolly, so I slid past her into my room.

"Oh, an, Annis?" She called as I started towards my bed, Lonny standing anxiously beside it, wringing her hands in her dark purple pillowcase-toga.

"Yes, Mother?" I asked, turning to look at her; there was something coldly satisfied in her green-grey gaze, and she gave me the same frigid smile she'd given Narcissa Malfoy when we had arrived and when we'd left, and I stiffened uncertainly.

"I'm glad you got along with your Betrothed," she told me with fake cheer, and my body froze, my eyes going wide as my brain went blank.

My _what_?!

"Goodnight, child," she told me, shutting the door firmly behind her and disappearing the the freaking Slenderman she freaking was. Who the fuck just _drops a bomb like that_ and then _walks away_?! Evil people, that's who! My life is _not_ a fucking _cliffhanger_!

Ugh!

And who did she mean was my Betrothed?! Marcus? Draco? Blaise, Vince, Greg?! WHO?!

"Little Mistress is be needing to get changed," Lonny told me softly, pulling me from my furious, confused thoughts, and I huffed at her as I obeyed.

Fuck it.

I was adaptable.

I'd make whatever happened my bitch and _own it_ , because that's how my mother's _always_ raised me (And yes, Lonny counted.).

…

Doesn't stop her from being a bitch, though.

 **~(Line Break)~**

So, I guess Flint is my Betrothed.

If neither of us has married a significant other by the time I'm twenty-one, we'll be married. Part of me just wants to say "Fuck it" and platonic-marry someone because I remember how much of an asshole Flint turns into from the old Harry Potter Universe, but then I remember the mischievous, bold kid that made a deal with me at Draco Malfoy's Ball. The one who was surprisingly nice and playful and funny. And I kinda want to give _him_ a chance, you know?

Then again, we're kids right now, and with my luck, Puberty is what turns him into an asshole, so I'll be nice and friendly and keep my distance romantically.

I've got a little less than a score until then, after all…

A score is twenty years, by the way. In case you were confused. Yeah, "four-score and seven years ago" means "87" years ago. Why he couldn't say it, I don't know, but Ol' Abe was President, so whatever.

Damn it, off topic again!

Damn brain.

I'm going to write a letter to Marcus, to see if he knew about this Betrothal before we talked…

Actually, first, I'm going to get Lonny to help me with the quills. For fucks sake, _why_?! Ugh, ink _everywhere_ and parchment, by Muggle standards, is _expensive_ and old-fashioned to a cute point.

Ugh.

…

I need to find a Dicta-Quill, so I can just _tell it_ , and it'll write everything down, but _no_ , Lonny says I shouldn't get used to them, and practice makes perfect, just because we're not allowed to use anything but the normal quills at Hogwarts (and sometimes the Check-Quill, which was basically a spellcheck Quill, but I seem to remember Ron Weasley having something similar in Half-Blood Prince…? I think it was that one. The one where he somehow turned in something with the name Rald Welsy or something? I don't know… Hey, it's been literally _decades_ since I last read the books, even if I have huge chunks of them memorized, that doesn't mean anything _now_! Ugh, rude…)

…

Damn it, brain, no tangents!

Ugh.

I'm going to go write that letter, now.

 **~(Line Break)~**

Marcus is actually very sweet.

At least, he can _act_ very sweet.

In the last three years, we've written to one another often, and I've found that he has a sarcastic, playfulness to him that can be both incredibly endearing and also amusing. We've seen one another, maybe five times? Since Draco's party, at least (I think I've seen my 'parents' less than that, actually…) and we've exchanged notes on little things, like books we're allowed to read that aren't quite _Light_ (and it's here that I found out that Marcus actually has Dyslexia and, when he needs to read, he puts on these spelled glasses. He hates them, because they make him look ridiculous, according to him. I told him I thought he'd look adorable. He threatened to hex my next letter.).

This year, however, Marcus is going off to Hogwarts, and I've agreed to pass on helpful information in exchange for class notes and copies of homework (He tells me I'm a shoe-in for Ravenclaw with a half-chance of Slytherin. I can't _wait_ to show off my Bumble-Bee Badger self in three years!). That's why I'm here, in Diagon Alley with Lonny, a bag full of Galleons, Sickles, _and_ Knuts (I never understood why people only ever grabbed Galleons. I mean, why break a Galleon when you only had to pay for a couple of Knuts? It just wasn't cost or weight affective to me.).

"Let's go to Flourish and Blotts first," I declared, pointing. "Then we can check out Obscurus Books and Whizz Hard Books, before getting tea at Rosa Lee's. Then we'll browse through quill shops, pop into Slug & Jiggers for their Slytherin Premium Potions Kit, the cauldron shop for just that, and then grab some ice cream at Florean's before heading home. Sound like a plan, Lonny?" I asked my honorary Mother; the House Elf (who was officially _my_ House Elf as of my Seventh Birthday. Her _and_ her newborn son, Buttons. Cobber was still a Nott Elf, but he actually pretty much lived in my Wardrobe with Lonny and Buttons now. He was more of a Dad than Dorian was, so, of course he was welcome.).

"Is be sounding very nice, Mistress Annis," Lonny agreed, smiling softly up at me from under her purple knitted hat. I'd asked her to teach me to knit through showing me (I'm horrible at it) and she'd knitted the hat and I'd told her it looked very nice on her and she'd worn it ever since.

"Onward, then!" I declared, and off to the bookstore we went!

The next three hours was spent there, browsing and skim-reading many, _many_ books. I ended up having to send Lonny back to Gringotts for me to grab more money from my Trust Vault, so that I could still have money for my various stops later.

I bought so many books on so many subjects it's not even funny. Here, I'll give you the gist of it.

In the Potions Section, I bought: _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger, _Proper Potion Preparation_ by Magina Spellcroft, _101 Easy Potions for the Beginning Brewer_ by Filbert Oxley, _Prank Potions for Pranksters_ by Joe Kurr (I laughed too, it's okay), _Cut or Crush: The Debate On Prepping Potions Ingredients_ by Theresa Thotts, and _Household Potions for the Everyday Witch and Wizard_ by Nigel Nitbottle. That was six books, each of them rounding out to about two Galleons, which, if my calculations are right, would, in USD, be about fifty dollars… I think? (Ugh, _math_ , thou art mine enemy, always.)

In Transfiguration, I bought: _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch, _Intermediate Transfiguration_ by Aldric Fellows, _Visualization Is Key: The Truth Behind Transfiguration_ by Lyla Bonnet, _Practical Theory_ by Holly Homer, _Transfiguring Morality: Is Living Transfiguration Too far?_ by Mortimer Madly, _Easy Transfiguration for the Young Witch and Wizard_ by Yasmine Germain, and _Magical Theory: Transfiguration_ by Brutus Normand. That was _seven_ books, fetching two Galleons each (except _Morality_ , _that_ was _five fucking Galleons holy crap_.) So, there went a good sixty USD.

The pattern continues through all the Hogwarts Subjects (and I do mean _all_.) as well as a good dozen other subjects. The Shop Keeper seemed both terrified and terribly amused as he rang up damn near one copy of _every_ book in the shop, including tossing in a free fictional book that they'd officially stopped selling but he'd been fond of (It was called _Badgered_ , and was about a Hufflepuff who had to go under cover in the Muggle World in order to try and find her missing cousin, and was about her misadventures there. Apparently, she eventually falls in love with a Ravenclaw who, in school, had been a complete jackass, they save her sister from some weird Muggle circus (as far as I could tell) and move to Australia to get away from her Family who were against the fact that she'd accidentally gotten pregnant with the Ravenclaws baby out of wedlock. They married, had a baby, and settled down to do her dream job of owning an Apothecary. It seemed very interesting, all things considered.).

Anyways, that done, I decided _against_ going to the other bookstores, my head and eyes aching, and instead turned my attention to Rosa Lee Teabag. Settling in, I enjoyed scalding my tongue on delicious Chai Spice tea, with enough sugar in it to make bystanders teeth _rot_. Afterwards, I popped into Amanuensis Quills to grab myself a couple dozen new quills, then went to Scribulus Writing Instruments to get the ink and parchment I needed (they were having a sale, so I got a _great_ bundle deal on scrolls).

By the time I had all that done, however, it was edging closer to dinner time, so I sent Lonny to get me my Pewter Cauldron (two, just in case), while I grabbed a Slytherin Premium Potions Kit (better ingredients, case, and vials, with extra ingredients just in case.). With that done, and plans to return the next week for anything else, Lonny took my hand and popped us back to my room where, with a snap of her fingers, my House Elf organized my many, _many_ shrunken things into their rightful places.

…

I am now the proud owner of a miniature _library_ , Jesus. It's a good thing that the bookshelf is magicked so that it can hold multiple shelves worth of books and all you needed to do was press your finger to the knob on the side, state the title or subject, and _only_ that/those books would show up on the shelves.

Magic is fucking amazing.

After a quick dinner of lasagna from Lonny (Fucking _love_ lasagna), I settled in at my desk with _Proper Potion Prep_ , a scroll, a new ink bottle, and a quill at the ready for notes.

I was going to be the fucking best-prepared student _ever_ and damn it if Marcus wasn't going to _learn_ with me.

Settling in, I started reading.

Come at me bro.

Come at me.

 **A/N:** It's not perfect, I know, believe me. Marcus Flint came out of fucking _no where_ and, before y'all get onto me for that, let me tell you right now that, as a kid, I was a horrible, violent little shit and now I don't even like smacking people upside the head. I broke someone's fucking _leg_ with a baseball bat because he told my (at the time seven-years-old) sister to give him a blowjob… Okay, I don't regret that, but the fact remains, guys.

People are different from when they're children.

More to come, no worries!

Review!


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** I'm such a bad person, ignoring my own Update Plan and everything (Runs hand through hair in frustration). I got halfway through the next chapter for _**Kiss of Iron**_ which, like a good girl, I'd been working on as my 100 List on my Profile dictated and then I got smacked in the face with a whole bunch of Nope so I started on this next, after that second chapter for _**Dearly Beloved**_.

I'm sorry

(Sulks)

 **Warnings:** AU, Rebirth, SI OC, Hufflepuff!OC, Is-it-overpowered-if-its-actually-logic-and-not-magic?, OOC, Lots and lots of cursing, multi-chaptered-fic-with-sporadic-updates, Eventual-Dark Lord!Harry, Character Bashing (Many and few), Debatable Morals, Experimentation, Emotional Manipulation  & Outright Manipulation of a Minor (Both Knowing and Not)

 **Unsuspected**

 _Chapter One_

Lonny and Cobber are the ones to see me off at Platform 9¾ when it's finally time for me to go to Hogwarts. My trunk is a simple thing that's been charmed dark purple with brass edges that only had two "Inner Dimensions". One is for my everyday things like clothes and school supplies, while the other holds my library which, in the last four years, has expanded _dramatically_. Sitting in a basket hooked over my elbow is my new kitten, a ratty little thing I picked up out of a Muggle Alley while visiting a bookstore. It was a boy, a scraggly little gray classic-tabby with green eyes that meowed like an old man, and I'd named him Oscar without thought.

"Dids yous bes forgetting anythings, Little Annis?" Cobber asked fretfully while he fluttered around me, Lonny bouncing on her toes anxiously while cuddling little three-year-old Buttons.

"No, Cobber," I told him affectionately, smiling as Oscar _Mrraw_ 'd in his basket. "Lonny made sure I had everything packed a week ago, and we've gone over it every day since."

"If yous is being sure, Little Annis," the Nott Shoe-Elf muttered uncertainly, tugging on one of his ears. Chuckling, I knelt and wrapped my father-figure in a one-armed hug, ignoring Oscars irritated _Mrraw_ ing.

"I will miss you, all of you," I told him quietly, glancing over at Lonny and little Buttons (Who had gotten _purple_ eyes and was currently chewing on his entire hand, he was so cute! Like one of those hairless sphinx cats only with hands! …Okay, that sounds creepier than it actually is…)

"We is being missing our Annis too," Lonny tearfully told me; I smiled sweetly, and released Cobber to pull her into a hug too, kissing little Buttons on his bald head softly when he crooned up at me sweetly. I glanced at the large clock over the Barrier, and shook my head.

"I better go find a compartment before anyone claims _all_ of them," I told my small family, smiling sweetly at them as they all tearfully hugged me, though Buttons just babbled and cooed. "I'll be sure to write, okay?" They nodded, blubbering too hard to actually say anything and, shaking my head fondly, I carried my charmed-light trunk to the train and onto it. I actually found a compartment rather easily, and quickly shoved my Trunk up onto the rack above the seats before moving to claim a window seat, peering through and spotting the three little House Elves, who were getting all sorts of stares as they tearfully waved at me. I smiled and waved back, and watched as Lonny wailed into Cobber's shoulder and they popped away before they could embarrass anyone.

I shook my head as I settled properly into the seat, setting Oscars basket on my lap and opening it up to smile at the ugly little guy, his bulging eyes staring in different directions yet managing to look up at me (mostly).

"You ready for Hogwarts, sweetheart?" I asked him softly; he blinked, one eye then the other, and tilted his head.

" _Mrraw_ ," he told me, before sneezing and, wobbling side to side, clumsily crawling out of his basket and up onto my shoulder, where, after sneezing again, he curled up against my neck and started a ragged, stuttering purr that had me leaning my head against him fondly. He was an ugly little shit, but surprisingly affectionate and cute. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the book Lonny had shrunken for me, as well as my wand (It was twelve inches of pure awesome, made with ivy wood and with a core of unicorn mane hair. It was good for charms and symbolizes friendship, connection, strength, and opportunity. Basically, my life).

Tapping the quarter-sized book in my hand, I resized it, so that I now had a two-inch thick textbook in my lap. _A Compiled History of Spellcrafting_ by Caius Lapaine was a dry read, and, in my very first life (Man, that was a _long_ time ago, even if the current year was _before_ I was born… Weird) I never would have been able to remember a single thing except for the brighter, more interesting facts and anecdotes. Now, however, my brain was trained to memorize and summarize and categorize information, so, instead of just skimming the information on the witch Ingrid Halstrom who created the Tan Evening Spell in 1957, I remembered it and had it settled in the part of my mind that was used for 'maybe-helpful-cosmetics-know-how' and continued to read.

The sound of more and more students boarding the train disturbed my reading, and I glanced up, startled, when my compartment door all but slammed open.

It was a couple of older students, Gryffindors by the look of the school robes they were already wearing. They were laughing with one another, and I silently slipped a bookmark between the pages of my book, not taking my eyes off them, and a purposefully curious, sweet smile on my face.

All those shady past lives come in handy when manipulating your facial expressions.

"Oh!" one of the three boys blurted, blinking at me, startled. This gained his companions attention and the three of them stood there, staring blankly for several moments, so I just continued to smile and waved a little at them.

"Hi, there!" I chirped; the three of them shared a look.

"Er, hi," the leader said, uncertainly eying me. They couldn't be more than thirteen, putting them in Marcus's year. "We didn't know anyone was in this compartment," he continued; I shrugged and lifted my large book, flashing them a sheepish grin.

"I got bored and was just reading," I told them honestly. "My parents dropped me off early." No one needed to know that I hadn't actually _seen_ my _human_ parents in two years. Lonny, Cobber, and Buttons were all I needed. One of the boys snorted.

"You a First Year?" He asked as he stepped past his friends to plop himself down on the seat across from me; I beamed and nodded, purposefully bouncing a little in my seat. "If _that_ is what you do when bored, you're a shoe-in for Ravenclaw," he chuckled, his friends shrugging and sitting as well; I pointedly set my book off to the side and leaned forward, making my eyes as wide and eager as possible, as if this boy had the secrets of the world hidden in his mind.

"Please, could you tell me about Hogwarts?" I asked him hopefully, and, as I watched him preen, I mentally smirked.

 _Time to do some networking…_

 **~(Line Break)~**

The train ride was nine hours long.

Nine.

 _Hours_.

 _ **NINE**_ **.**

What the ever loving fuck were wizards doing with themselves?! They could travel via Port-Key and Floo and Broom and fucking _House Elf_ but they couldn't make a shorter fucking train ride?! I'd read the books on Time-Magic! They could have _easily_ placed one such spell on the Express so that the passengers only felt a short amount of time had passed when, in actuality, the full nine hours had gone by.

Ugh, I got so bored at one point that I had hunted down Marcus in the Slytherin Compartments to ask him if he'd finished all his Summer Homework (Which, _of course_ he hadn't. I swear, for such a mischievously deceitful boy he was a damn airhead when it came to homework). I had promptly cuffed him upside the head and made him pull it out, his friends smirking and snickering…

Up until the point I had started explaining the differences in using Billy-Wig Stings and Billy-Wig Sting _Slime_ and their caustic, explosive affects when mixed up in the Wideye Potion. _Then_ Marcus's friends started pulling out their own Potions Essays and going over their information. I spent a good hour lecturing on various subjects. I even got into a debate with a Seventh Year who had stopped by, about whether or not the law making crossbreeding magical animals illegal was morally ambiguous or not (It wasn't. Outside of dedicated research and carefully controlled situations, it was horrendously dangerous to crossbreed magical animals. The only exceptions were Kneazles and Crups, both of which could safely, and regularly did, breed with their mundane cousins. I point out the Skrewts, which Hagrid made _illegally_ , which were horrible and dangerous enough to be put in a _life or death tournament_.).

After that, however, I'd left to wander the train, buying a couple of bags of Cherry Boomers off the trolley (They're these cherry flavored candies that exploded in your mouth, like super-strong Pop Rocks, and made red-colored smoke poof out of your nose, mouth, and ears. They're totally awesome.). Now, however, the Express was _finally_ pulling into the Hogsmeade station. House Elves would be by to take our luggage to the Castle, so, tucking my book into my Trunk, I left it, and Oscar (safely tucked into his basket and fast asleep) behind as I stepped off the Express and out into the fresh air…

And heavy, frigid rain.

 _You've gotta be fucking kidding me._

"Firs' Years!" A loud, thick brogue called; automatically, I turned, squinting through the rain to see the massive form of what must be Hagrid. Feeling, and no doubt _looking_ , like a half-drowned rat, I shuffled after my fellow First Years as we were lead down to the Lake Shore, Hogwarts a rain-grayed image in the distance as our teeth began to chatter.

"No more'n four ta a boat!" Hagrid bellowed over an ominous rumble of thunder. Shuffling awkwardly into the nearest boat, I huddled down as three others reluctantly joined me. "FORWARD," Hagrid bellowed moments after all the Firsties were in boats; in a jerk of motion, the boats obeyed, and began to glide across the Black Lake.

"Is this safe?" one of my Boat-Buddies asked, his high voice nervous as he huddled next to another girl. His rain-soaked hair was currently dark brown, his squinting eyes brown, his teeth relatively white and straight as they bit his lip.

"According to a couple of books I've read, the boats are Warded against lightning and fire," I informed them all absently as I squinted into the black depths. "And, if you happen to fall in, the Giant Squid has usually been known to put you back in your boat, or hand you off to a teacher…"

"Usually?" The girl beside him demanded; she had tightly braided black hair and brown eyes with a very small Asian cast to her cute, rounded face set in pretty cocoa colored skin. Her teeth were chattering, and I nodded at her.

"There was a single case in nineteen-eighty-three when the Giant Squid reportedly tipped over a good number of the boats, but it was later determined that it was an accident due to an abnormally large number of Grindylows which were attempting to attack the boats and that the Squid was _actually_ attempting to protect the students," I rattled off easily. I had to blink water out of my eyes as I peered over my shoulder at my three Boat-Buddies and, taking in their stares (even the dark blond boy in the back who looked torn between sneering and gaping), I realized, belatedly, that I'd pulled a bit of a Hermione. I managed a smile at them, and the girl shook her head.

"Lets just hope there aren't any of those things here _now_ then," she decided; I shrugged, and leaned over the boat to stick my hand in the water, which was currently a few degrees warmed than the wind that was chilling the rain.

"Wouldn't make much difference, with all this bloody rain," I informed her cheerfully, ad we said no more as the boats continued across the lake.

Once the boats hit the shore again, there was a mad scramble as all the shivering, soaked eleven-year-olds and soon-to-be-eleven-year-olds ran for the doors, Hagrid herding us forward cheerfully until we were all safely indoors. I sighed happily at the warm, dry air that greeted us and, ignoring everything around me temporarily, I began to attempt to squeeze water from my hair and clothing.

"The Firs' Years, Pr'fesser McGonagall," Hagrid announced; I looked up in time to spot the stern witch dressed in crushed green velvet and gold robes, eying our little drowned-rat group with sharp eyes over the rims of her square glasses.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she informed the Half-Giant regally, and Hagrid saluted before cheerfully lumbering out of the room and into the Great Hall. Looking over our group, McGonagall's sharp gaze landed on each one of us, until she'd given all fifteen of us a steely glare. Finally, she spoke, and I straightened tall and listened attentively.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she told us all. "In a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But, before you can take your seats, you must be Sorted into your Houses. They are: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw." Here, she paused to once more cast her sharp gaze on all of us, and I noticed it lingered pointedly on the bright red heads of what _had_ to be eleven-year-olds Fred and George Weasley, who grinned back at her with nervous mischief. "While you are here," she continued dubiously, "your House will be like your Family. Your Triumphs will earn you points, and any _rule breaking_ ," another sharp glance at the Twins, "will _lose_ you points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup. Now, you will remain here for a few moments. I will retrieve you when we are ready," she informed us primly, before turning and leaving us behind.

"…Well, then!" I declared easily, clapping my hands together and gaining nearly everyone's attention. I smiled brightly at them all, and decided to do as much networking and ground-setting as possible. I was going to be the most Slytherinly-Ravenclaw Hufflepuff to ever Puff in this school, or so help me I will _burn that fucking hat_. "My names Annis Blagden! I'm a Pureblood. It's nice to meet you all, and I look forward to our classes together!" Everyone just sort of… Stared for several seconds, but I didn't let it bother me. I'd been in some _very_ scary situations throughout my lives, and being stared at by a bunch of kids that looked half-drowned was _far_ from intimidating.

"…Angelina Johnson," my female Boat-Buddy finally said, breaking the silence. "Half-Blood." The boy from my boat spoke up next, sniffling a little.

"Roger Davies, Pureblood," he announced; the floodgates opened.

"Cedric Diggory, Pureblood," a slightly-pudgy blond boy called; I blinked slowly at him, the image of Robert Pattinson overlaying this pink-cheeked, cheerful looking pudge-ball as he tentatively waved.

"Lee Jordan, Half-Blood," a brown-skinned boy with short dreadlocks piped up, shaking his head like a dog and grinning at the Twins as they squawked before laughing at him.

"Fred and—"

"George Weasley," the Twins cheerfully announced.

"Pureblood Mischief—"

"Makers, at your—"

" **Service** ," they finished together, and I mentally went over what I remembered about the differences I could make out. From what I could tell, the left one had a _slightly_ deeper voice than the right twin, while the right twin had slightly darker blue eyes.

"Alicia Spinnet, Half-Blood," a pretty girl of Indian decent announced, uncertainly smiling.

"Patricia Stimpson," another girl introduced, voice meek and nervous. "M-Muggleborn." She had reddish hair and large freckles splattered across her nose, with green-hazel eyes that darted about uncertainly, squinting as she attempted to dry off her rectangular glasses. The blond-boy from my boat was standing near her, and sniffed with a derisive sneer as he pointedly stepped away.

"Valentine Brew," he announced in a slightly nasally voice, nose lifting into the air. " _Pureblood_ , of course." I mentally went over the list of lines and connections Lonny had me memorize for years, and remembered, vaguely, that the Brew Family was a Noble line that had been instrumental in the making of alcohol like Firewhiskey and Butterbeer, and were competitors against several other brands, such as Ogden's. If his attitude was anything to go by, he was, thus far, a _slightly_ more in-control Draco Malfoy. Interesting.

"Nicole Moore, Muggleborn," a quite blond girl with large gray eyes and a slightly-too-big set of front teeth announced softly.

"Aidan O'Connally, Half-Blood," a brunet boy with a thick Irish accent followed, hazel eyes cheerfully watching those around him.

"Kenneth Towler, Muggleborn," a gangly black-haired boy muttered awkwardly, shuffling in his place, blue eyes wary as he eyed the sneering girl next to him. His own accent was Scottish, and not nearly as thick as Professor McGonagall's had been, let alone _Hagrid's_.

"Hmph," the girl next to him sniffed, stepping firmly away with a cold look. "Vesta Yallowsworth, Pureblood and _not_ to be _messed_ with," she declared importantly, casting her narrowed green eyes on the Weasley Twins especially, tossing her ash-blond hair over one shoulder. I vaguely remembered that the Yallowsworth Family was relatively new to the Pureblood Lines, barely a hundred-and-fifty years old, and were minor experts in the Apothecary field.

The last to go shrugged with a small smile, his Asian features setting him apart from even Alicia, black hair and dark eyes watching all those around him with mild interest.

"Isao Okada, Pureblood," he informed the room, his thick Irish accent clashing in a surprisingly awesome way with his Japanese name (I realized that he must be related to the Ancient and Noble Okada Family that was the current leader in Spell Creation and Ward Masters in Japan as of last year, and mentally put an emphasis on gaining his 'friendship'), and his grin was sharp at the looks the two cantankerous Purebloods in the room gave him. "Th' pleasure is mine, yeah?" I beamed brightly at everyone, mentally cataloguing their personalities and attitudes in a neat list beside their names, appearances, and accents in my head.

"I hope we'll all get along relatively well, everyone," I declared cheerfully. "After all, in just a few moments, we'll be Sorted into our Houses by the Sorting Hat, and then we may not see much of each other at all." They others were quiet for a moment, eying me and one another, with uncertainty and curiosity.

"What's the Sorting Hat?" Roger Davies asked carefully; I blinked, tilting my head.

"The Sorting Hat is a sentient Wizards Hat enchanted by the Four Founders of Hogwarts about fifty years after the creation of the School when the Founders-who were Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Rowena Ravenclaw-had realized that they couldn't properly Sort all the incoming students _themselves_ due to time management issues and classes. When our names are called, we'll sit on a stool and the Hat will be placed on our heads, and it will then go through our mind to see which House will fit us best. It is spelled with so many confidentiality clauses that it's unable to tell _anyone_ what it sees, unless that student, at that time, is in immediate danger or is an _immediate_ threat to someone's welfare, and, even then, it will only be able to tell either the Headmaster or said students new Head of House." I glanced over the group. They were all listening avidly, even rude Vesta and Valentine.

"Mostly, the Hat focuses on our Personalities to Sort us," I continued cheerfully, rocking slightly on my feet as I gave them the information I'd found in a history book called _Founding of the Founders Four_ by Evandar Flume. "The bold, brave, rash, courageous, determined, and overly protective tend to go to Gryffindor, within reason, along with those who have a cats curiosity and propensity for chaos and trouble. The intelligent, curious, fact-driven, aloof, innovative, intense, and often introverted tend to end up in Ravenclaw, with those who are obsessive-compulsive and absent-minded. Slytherin tends to get the ambitious, self-preserving, witty, skeptical, devious, and cunning, as well as the goal-driven and wary. A lot of people think that all of this means that Hufflepuff get's the idiots and leftovers, but that's just _ridiculous_ and rather biased. Instead, Hufflepuff gets the loyal, hard-working, kind, friendly, gullible, and honest, as well as those who prefer to follow a Pack mentality and those who are willing to do what must be done." I shrugged and scratched my head, irritated with the feeling of water slowly trailing across my scalp.

"Of course, you get mixes in all the Houses," I told them absently, tilting my head to the side and swatting at it when water got into my ear. "You'll get your clever Gryffindors, your ambitious Hufflepuffs, your brave Slytherins, and your gullible Ravenclaws. It's really just circumstantial, considering what you're like _now_ isn't necessarily what you're like when you're, say, fifteen. Ridiculous program, really," I huffed, rolling my eyes and ignoring their continued stared.

"…You read a lot, don't you?" Alicia asked me, amused; I blinked at the girl, and smiled.

"Yep!" I cheerfully declared; she shook her head.

At this moment, of course, the Ghosts decided to show up by _flying through me what the fuck_.

" _Cold_!" I shrieked, startled as the Fat Friar rose up through the floor and through _me_. Hopping away, I shuddered and shook myself firmly, teeth starting to chatter again from the shock of frigid cobwebs against my still-wet body.

"Oh!" He said, blinking guilelessly at me. "I'm sorry, dear, I didn't see you there!" Nearly Headless Nick chortled from where his head was poking through the floor before he floated upward to glide easily next to his friend.

"Hello, First Years!" He greeted cheerfully as I watched the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron ignore us all and slip through the doors into the Great Hall. "I hope to see you in Gryffindor! It's my House, you know!" Still chortling, he floated through the door, leaving only the gently smiling Friar behind.

"I _do_ hope none of you fall ill from this horrid rain," he told the room at large kindly, smiling at me. "Hopefully a few of you will find yourselves in Hufflepuff, hmm? Good night, and happy Sorting!" He urged warmly, before floating after his fellow House Ghosts and disappearing.

"…What was _that_ about?" Angelina demanded, and the room looked to me. Before I could answer, however, Professor McGonagall opened the door.

"Fall into line and follow me," she ordered us sternly; under her sharp, unflinching gaze, we obeyed, and I felt my heart begin to beat faster in excitement as we started through the doors.

 _This was it!_

I couldn't wait!

 **A/N:** This was actually meant to be a bit different, but I got distracted and wasn't paying attention to the word count, so I'll cut it off here.

Fred, George, Lee, Alicia, Angelina, Roger, Kenneth, Cedric, and Patricia are _all_ Canon Characters (Though there is no House Affiliation or Physical Description of Patricia or Kenneth).

My OC's are there because most of the Canon Characters who went to Hogwarts in 1989 were Gryffindors Harry knew. He didn't know anyone, really, in that Year from any of the other Houses and this and the previous Year would be smaller due to the War being in full-swing. Though, the year AFTER this one would be slightly bigger, because that's the Year Voldemort finds out about the Prophesy and proceeds to say Fuck All to nearly everything in order to hunt down the Potters So, I added 5 OC's along with my Main Character, giving this Year 15 students.

(Harry's Year, 1991, has _**41 students**_ so don't complain about my measly 5 OC's.)

Don't forget to Review!


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